


Hello Stranger

by heyacas (lilypond)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, implied bottom!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypond/pseuds/heyacas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's going to kill Gabriel.</p><p>He probably makes that threat about once a week, but this time he really means it.  Because if Gabriel hadn't taken Castiel's car for a spur-of-the-moment trip to Nevada, Castiel wouldn't currently be packed into a subway car along with what seems to be the total population of Manhattan without enough room to so much as scratch his nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello Stranger

He's going to kill Gabriel.

He probably makes that threat about once a week, but this time he _really_ means it. Because if Gabriel hadn't taken Castiel's car for a spur-of-the-moment trip to Nevada, Castiel wouldn't currently be packed into a subway car along with what seems to be the total population of Manhattan without enough room to so much as scratch his nose. 

 _This_ has _to exceed the maximum capacity for these cars,_ he thinks. He attempts to curl in tighter on himself to put a few inches between himself and the other passengers, which turns out to be a bad idea, as the crowd around him simply presses in mercilessly to fill what little space he's opened and he's left with even less room to breathe.

_Wonderful._

The train shudders to a stop. A decently sized portion of the train empties as people spill out through the doors, and Castiel sighs heavily in relief.

Until a gap in the crowd allows him a glance out the window, and the group gathered to board the car looks even larger than the one that just got off.

He's going to kill Gabriel, resurrect him, and then kill him again. Maybe a third time for good measure.

Castiel clings tightly to the pole next to him, closing his eyes and riding out the shuffle of people around him. His eyes snap back open when another body comes to rest right in front of him – almost pressed up against him.

He lets his eyes trail up the man's chest. He doesn't seem to have noticed Castiel – or more likely Castiel is violating some unspoken subway etiquette and he should be pretending the other man isn't there as well.

But it gives him the opportunity to study his face unobserved, and what he finds is quite pleasant. His nose and cheekbones are brushed with freckles, and a little further up, his vibrant green eyes are lined with long, thick lashes. His lips are full and pink, and even to Castiel, who doesn't normally notice these things about people, look _very_ soft and inviting.

 _He's beautiful,_ Castiel muses.

The train shakes as it starts up again, and the man stumbles into him.

“Shit, sorry,” the man mutters, pulling back, but apparently finding the space behind him already filled. They're stuck with no more than an inch between them now.

“It's all right,” Castiel murmurs, but he's staring firmly away again already.

Oh well. Castiel continues studying his face idly to pass the time, his gaze dropping lower, tracing down his neck, towards the dip of his collarbone...

The car jolts again as the track curves, and they're pressed together again. The man finally looks down at him, eyes wide.

“Uh,” he says helpfully. “Sorry. Again.” Castiel blinks at him and shrugs silently. It's not his fault, after all. He's stuck in the same situation Castiel is.

When Castiel doesn't respond further, he relaxes slightly and returns to his apparent careful study of the ads lining the ceiling.

The car continues rocking intermittently, shifting them against each other. They eventually give up trying to back away from each other every time they're thrown together, and the man seems content to continue pretending Castiel isn't there even while their shoulders are pressed together and their thighs brush every time the train rattles.

Then Castiel shifts his weight from one leg to the other, changing the angle between them.

Castiel stiffens in shock when their bodies make contact again. That is, most definitely, the other man's cock pressing insistently against his leg. A wave of heat ripples down his spine at the realization. He looks up, wide-eyed.

The man's face is bright red, his eyes now squeezed shut. “Sorry,” he grumbles. “I – _shit_ , sorry.”

Castiel watches his face silently, considering. If he turned his hips just a few inches to the left, the man would be able to feel _exactly_ how the situation is beginning to affect him as well.

“I'm not – I'm not some creep,” the man continues gruffly. “I just – I mean, anyone pressed up against a hot guy like this is gonna...”

“You think I'm hot?” Castiel says, just barely loud enough to be heard. The man blinks down at him.

“Well, uh. Yeah?”

“I see.”

“Fuck,” the man sighs shakily. “I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I don't –”

He breaks off with a gasp as Castiel shifts closer, brushing himself against the man, watching his face carefully for a reaction.

“ _Shit,”_ the man says roughly. He licks his lips, eyes wide and questioning. He lifts his hands as if to reach for Castiel, but stops, leaving them hovering uncertainly around Castiel's waist.

Castiel presses his hips forward again encouragingly, relishing the low groan he's rewarded with, almost inaudible over the chatter surrounding them.

Finally, strong fingers dig into his hips, tugging them the rest of the way together, until they're pressed firmly chest to chest. Castiel sighs blissfully and lets his eyelids flutter shut.

“I'm Dean, by the way,” the man whispers into his ear. Castiel shivers at the sensation.

“Castiel,” he murmurs. Dean chuckles.

“Nice to meet you, Cas,” he says. Dean's tongue flicks out over his earlobe, gently, as if testing the waters.

Castiel hums in pleasure, tilting his head to allow Dean better access.

“You – you sure?” Dean whispers.

Castiel isn't sure how much clearer he can be at this point, and he's more than ready for Dean to stop hesitating and _move_. He's never done anything like this before, never in his life, but it feels so good and hot and _right_. He slides his own hands around Dean's waist and down to grip his ass, hidden from view under the cover of his jacket, rolling his hips forward at the same time.

Dean's breath stutters. He buries his face in Castiel's neck to muffle a groan.

“Fuck, Cas,” he says, nipping gently at Castiel's throat. Castiel spares a brief thought to hope that Dean has the presence of mind not to leave a mark, but there is a surprisingly vocal part of him that loves the idea of walking into the office with the evidence that this was _real,_ that this happened, displayed for everyone to see.

Dean is panting, whispering curses into Castiel's skin. His grip on Castiel's hips is bruising, clenching with every tiny thrust they make against each other. The friction is amazing, but Castiel _needs_ to feel skin, to _touch_.

Castiel slides his hands up to the small of Dean's back and under his shirt, lingering over the hot skin there. He wonders briefly if Dean has freckles here, too. He wishes he could see. Finally, he dips his hands back down underneath the waistband of Dean's pants, cupping his bare cheeks, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

“Yes, yes, please Cas, _please_ ,” Dean mumbles. Castiel isn't sure what he's asking for, but he thinks he has a good idea.

With the next roll of his hips he lets one hand trail further downwards, inching his fingers closer to Dean's hole, waiting for him to tense up, to pull away. Dean just moans and nods.

Castiel shifts enough to slip a finger down all the way until he's pressing it against Dean's entrance. He circles it over the skin gently.

Dean presses back into his hand eagerly, and _oh_ does he wish he could give him what he's begging for, to slide his fingers inside, to feel that delicious heat around him. But he refuses to hurt him. Instead he teases the rim, pressing the tip of his finger just barely in and out, not quite enough to stretch.

It seems to be enough for Dean.

“Oh God, yes, don't stop, _please,_ _please_ don't stop,” he moans softly.

Castiel wouldn't dream of stopping now. He's so close himself, arms full of this _beautiful_ man writhing and begging for him.

Dean's hips work desperately against him in short, rough thrusts. His breath is hot and frantic against Castiel's neck.

Castiel doesn't want to come before Dean, but he's losing control fast. He _needs_ release.

He brushes his lips over the shell of Dean's ear. “Come for me, Dean,” he whispers, pressing his finger inside him to the first knuckle.

Dean gasps as he comes, hips jerking forward sharply as his body shudders with the force of it.

Castiel is lost, the feeling of Dean coming apart in his arms too hot to stand. He bites his lip hard to hold back the shout of pleasure bubbling up in his throat. He can't remember ever coming this hard, and it's only the fact that they're leaning against each other that keeps his legs from giving out under him.

What feels like hours later, his eyelids flutter open. Dean is still a warm, solid weight in his arms. Castiel pulls his hands out of Dean's pants, and Dean stirs, blinking, and slides his own hands up to rest softly on Castiel's waist.

They peer over each other's shoulders, scanning the crowd around them. Miraculously, nobody seems to have noticed them. When their eyes meet again, they can't stop themselves from breaking down into breathless laughter.

Several people turn to glare at them, only _now_ looking away from books and phones to notice they're even there, and they only laugh harder.

When they've come down enough to breathe properly, Dean rests his forehead gently against Castiel's.

“Hey,” he says roughly.

Castiel grins. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean clears his throat. “So, uh. That was pretty good timing, 'cause my stop's next.”

The warm afterglow in Castiel's chest starts to fade. “Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_. I was thinking maybe...maybe I could take you out to dinner or something? Do this right. If you're interested, I mean.”

Dean's cheeks flush pink again as he asks, which Castiel finds absolutely _adorable_ after what they've just done together. The light, giddy feeling is settling back into his bones. He nods, knocking their heads together in his eagerness. Dean laughs.

“Good.” His voice drops to a low rumble. “'Cause I think I wanna know what you sound like when you don't have to hold back.”

Castiel smirks. “And I think I'd like to know what you really feel like from the inside.”

Dean shivers pleasantly in his arms.

The subway car hisses to a stop, finally, and they have to untangle. Castiel misses Dean's warmth the second he pulls away.

Dean slips a business card into Castiel's front pocket and winks.

“You better call me.”

“Of course,” Castiel says, still smiling.

Dean makes it two steps towards the door before he freezes and turns around.

“Shit, I forgot,” he says.

Castiel frowns. Did he change his mind?

Dean leans back in towards him, pushing through the line of people making their way off the car. He cups Castiel's cheek and presses their lips together. They don't have time for more than one chaste kiss, but Dean's smile is radiant when they break apart.

 

 - - - 

 

Castiel can't stop smiling either, even through the embarrassing beeline he has to make to the bathroom to clean himself up before he can even sit at his desk. He imagines Dean probably had to go through the same, though he's not sure whether to picture him working at an office or not. The business card Dean gave him doesn't tell him much beyond the fact that his last name is Winchester.

Castiel holds tight to that business card for the rest of the workday. When he gets on the subway to go home that afternoon, it's much less crowded and he can actually sit down and stretch his legs out. After the first stop the car empties out so it's just him, and he pulls out his phone to call the number labeled _Cell_ on the card before he can think twice about it.

Dean doesn't answer. Castiel sighs in disappointment, but he has to remind himself he _is_ probably being impatient. He'll try again tomorrow, maybe. It's a good thing Dean didn't answer, anyway, isn't it? Just because he said he wanted to go to dinner doesn't mean _immediately_. He's not going to want to see him again at all if Castiel appears too eager, right? And maybe he didn't really mean it at all – Castiel has never exactly done random hookups, if that's what this was. He doesn't know the proper procedures for this sort of thing. He's never really dated, either, for that matter. This was probably a doomed venture to begin with.

But he has an _amazing_ memory to hold onto, at the very least.

At the next stop a few people board, and he feels someone plop down in the seat next to him. A warm arm snakes around his shoulders.

Castiel tenses, turning to tell whoever it is to kindly _back off_.

The words die on his lips when he sees Dean's smile.

“Heya, Cas,” he says. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Dean,” Castiel says. “I just tried to call you.”

So much for not appearing overeager.

But Dean's face brightens. “You did? Oh, I don't get good signal down here. Shitty network.”

He _wasn't_ ignoring him. He's still interested. He certainly _seems_ interested, at least.

“So, uh,” Dean says. “Were you calling to set up a time for that dinner? 'Cause I didn't get to eat today, and I'm pretty hungry. You know, if you have time. I'm not...I mean, I'm not _assuming_ anything...”

“Actually,” Castiel says. “I think staying home and ordering a pizza sounds good tonight.”

“Oh,” Dean says faintly, disappointment plain on his face.

Castiel smiles softly. “What I mean is, you could come to my place and _we_ could order a pizza. If you want.”

The way Dean's eyes light up is answer enough. It's even better when he takes Castiel's hand tightly in his own and doesn't let go for the rest of the ride.

Castiel might spare Gabriel's life after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://lilypond.co.vu/)


End file.
